


Valentine's Day Massacre

by FatalYaoi



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Resident Evil - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Valentine's Day, fight, love-ish, relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-28
Updated: 2013-02-28
Packaged: 2017-12-03 21:24:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/702781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FatalYaoi/pseuds/FatalYaoi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Valentine's Day rolls around and Chris begins to question his relationship with Wesker.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Valentine's Day Massacre

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, I hate Valentine's Day. I sincerely believe it should be renamed to Chocolate Appreciation Day because that's just so much more accurate. Anyway, I'm sorry this stupid thing is so late. I've been busy with life and whatnot. I'm really trying to belt out these stories but it isn't going well. I'm working on a prompt and the next chapter of The Fall of Umbrella.
> 
> Also I literally had to make myself stop playing Final Fantasy X to get this OneShot finished and posted. So hopefully it was worth it and enjoy the mushy gushy side of Chris and Wesker because it isn't seen often (because it's just wrong, let's be honest.)

Chris was quiet, his hands in shaky fists at his sides. He was standing, alone now, in the center of his living room. A sofa to his left a coffee table to his right, a television that was loud and playing animatedly behind him—everything seemed fine. Wesker's still hot coffee was sitting on a coaster of the glass table, steam surrounding the edges of the glass and slowly rising from the liquid inside.

The lonely male slowly felt his anger diminish when he heard the bedroom door slam with enough force to shake the walls. His body twitched at the sound and he sighed, almost afraid to move.

Chris cursed under his breath as one of his hands rose to rake through his brown hair. This was far from how it was supposed to happen and he could not help himself from fucking everything up beyond repair. He wanted to rush after Albert, offer some sort of reason for the words that were spoken in haste anger but he just did not have one. He still had to try.

"Albert…" Chris muttered, rounding the coffee table before turning into the hallway where the blond stalked off to. "Albert!" Chris shouted once he came nose-to-nose with their bedroom door. "This isn't how this was supposed to go."

No response.

"You know I love you."

No response.

"Valentine's Day isn't a big deal. I understand. I'm sorry!"

"You do not understand."

A response!

"I do though!" Chris tried desperately, suddenly inspired by the blonde's spoken words. "We're both men, you have a reputation to upkeep as Captain. I'm sorry I asked you to go out—"

"You truly don't understand."

Chris could hear the heavy, exasperated sigh in Albert's words and he realized just how unbearable they were to hear. The brunet simply could not stand fighting with Albert and he just wanted to fix whatever he had done.

"I didn't mean what I said."

"Do not lie, Christopher."

His full name had been used.

Chris groaned, his forehead falling onto the cold door with a quiet thump.

"I didn't! I was angry—"

"That is when the most truth is revealed."

"I don't doubt that you care for me," Chris said desperately. "There is some truth to what I said but if I can just explain maybe you'll understand, Albert."

Silence.

Was he listening?

"I know I'm not your first male to be… you know… but I'm your first while you've been Captain. Having to hide all feelings and emotions around the office is understandable but irritating. Like today when you came back to the office after dealing with Irons; I wanted to do everything in my power to make you feel better."

"I don't believe bending you over my desk would be proper etiquette for work, Christopher."

Chris chuckled quietly and smiled fondly at the door as if he could see straight through to Wesker on the opposite side.

"So you understand why I said it?"

"Vaguely, I suppose. Perhaps not to the extent you would expect but—"

"Shut up and come out," Chris said with a sigh before backing away from the door once movement was heard.

The doorknob jiggled as it was unlocked and the door swung open. Albert stood in a black sweatshirt and jeans, his glasses gone and his lips a thin line of indifference.

"We are still discussing this," Albert said before turning on his heel and retreating back into their room.

"I know, I know," Chris sighed, following him inside.

The bed was in the center of the room with the headboard pressed against the opposite wall from the entrance of the room. The closet was to the left of the door and to the right, pressed against a wall, was a desk complete with a desktop computer that both men used for work as well as personal use. Beside the bed sat a bedside table, small and black, and to the left of that was a wooden dresser. The carpet was grey matching the walls with black bedding giving the room a much darker look than Chris would have liked.

That, of course, meant Wesker picked it out.

Albert leaned against the desk, not bothering to sit down in the chair tucked under the workspace. The blond pulled up his sleeves and crossed his ankles and arms at the same time giving Chris an attractive view of his arms. Chris sat on the end of the bed, his arms resting on his upper thigh.

And then silence.

Chris wanted to say something—anything—but he truly did not know what to say.

"I might be a little worried… about… us," Chris muttered receiving a curt nod from Albert.

"I can see that," the blond stated. "Why?"

"We've been together for a while now and I'm getting more and more worried of your feelings for me. I don't doubt anything, really, but there are times when we don't act like a couple. We act like two people having sex."

"Well yes, that's part of a relationship."

"It shouldn't be the only part. I'm not asking for frequent dates or anything—I just hate feeling I'm only here for you to fuck."

Albert remained quiet for a moment before uncrossing his ankles to stand up straight. He turned on his heel and began rummaging through the desk drawers before pulling out a piece of paper. Chris eyed the blonde's impassive expression as he approached Chris. Albert offered the paper to him but Chris didn't take it just yet.

"What—"

"Just read it."

Chris cautiously obeyed and read the piece of printed paper.

**Your table has been reserved at** _**Chez Henri** _ **for February fourteenth at seven-thirty under the name Captain Albert Wesker.**

By the time Chris looked back up, Wesker had moved back across the room and returned to leaning against the desk. Chris remained quiet as he scanned the page that was lined with hearts and other tacky designs. The piece of paper was stapled to a letter that, upon scanning, Chris saw was a personal written letter to none-other than Captain Albert Wesker.

Chris chuckled and looked up at the blond with a grin.

"You name dropped?"

"To get a particular table, yes. I also may have included a promise of increased security in the area."

"For what? This is the most expensive restaurant in town. Why would they possibly need security?" Chris asked, eyeing the letter again.

"Car thefts increase."

"That's pretty damn smart," Chris said before standing. The smile stayed planted on his face as he inched towards Albert. "I'm sorry."

"I can see that," the blond stated with a smirk.

"I was wrong."

"Well, yes."

"Should I start getting ready?"

"Yes."

Chris's grin expanded and he leaned forward, his arms wrapping around the blonde's midsection. Albert sighed and accepted the hug with his right hand and used his left to lift Chris's chin. Chris allowed the blond to guide his head and grinned when their lips touched.

* * *

"You'd think they would keep it more French in here—even it if is Valentine's Day," Chris muttered as he and Albert were guided through the restaurant to their table.

The restaurant itself was stunning underneath the streamers of red and pink, of course. There was a chandelier in the center and lit candles on every table. Most tables were crowded with couples but several were still empty, awaiting the guests yet to come. Waiters and waitresses were bustling everywhere, some carrying food while others held wine or some sort of champagne.

Albert had dressed in a suit and tie and even left his famed sunglasses at home. Chris had taken a similar route but chose a black three piece suit instead. Both of their ties were similar grey tones and neither seemed to be able to take their eyes off of each other.

"Your table," the female waitress said.

She certainly was not French but in a town like Raccoon City, it was difficult to find authentic French waitresses. Instead, she was blond and young and eyeing Wesker far more than she should have been. She handed the two their menus and left to speak to the owner who seemed to have to remind her in a very loud French accent that this was Captain Albert Wesker and his boyfriend.

"What would you like to drink?" the waitress asked once she was finished 'speaking' to the owner.

"I believe I ordered the wine when I made the reservations."

"O-Oh you did. I'm sorry, Mr. Wesker. Please forgive me, I will return shortly."

"Incompetent woman," the blond sighed once she hurried away.

"She's got her boss breathing down her neck, of course she's going to mess up."

"I suppose you know how that feels," Albert asked suggestively causing Chris to chuckle.

"A bit, yeah. Our first mission you assigned me pointman with you covering me. I knew you were testing my skills."

"And you passed."

"With flying colors," Chris added with a smug smirk.

"I wouldn't go that far."

"Jackass."

"Here is your Champagne," the waitress said, setting the bucket of ice on a small table set by a bus boy. She set the bottle she was holding into the bucket , nestling it deep into the ice, before setting the cork opener on the table and saying, "for when you're ready." She stepped back and asked, "Will you need a little more time?"

"I believe if you had given us a chance to look—"

"Yes, yes. We'll need a little more time," Chris said quickly, cutting off Albert before he could begin into a neverending rant that would inevitably belittle, insult, and scold and would end with the woman crying. Chris distantly recalled why he despised going anywhere with the blond.

"Very well. Take your time," the waitress said to Chris before turning on her heel and bustling away.

"I could have handled that."

"By making her cry?"

"She is completely incompetent, Christopher."

"She's a server, Albert. If she spills something on you or decides to be rude, that is when you can belittle her. Wait until she actually does something wrong."

Albert remained quiet and looked to the menu in his hand, instead. Chris followed suit and after a few moments, set the menu down with a huff.

"I don't know French," he stated.

The blond simply looked at him over the top of his menu.

"What?" Chris asked after a moment.

"You're lucky I do."

"I didn't know that."

"Of course you didn't. I never told you," Albert said simply. "We'll both get Streak Frites."

"What's that?" Chris asked, eyeing the wordy menu in search for the words.

"It's steak, Christopher," the blond muttered almost in disbelief. "Really, you cannot possibly be  _that_  terrible."

"I didn't spend much time studying languages in school, Albert. I'm sorry I didn't go to some fancy exchange school in London."

"I didn't, actually."

"I wouldn't know. You never actually told me," Chris bit back carefully.

"I don't tend to speak of my past often," Albert said matter-of-factly.

"I've noticed."

"Are you two ready to order?"

Both Chris and Albert looked to the server whose smile wavered slightly as she slipped the pad of paper out of her pocket and held a pen to it. Chris looked to Albert and sighed.

"No. Actually, I'm leaving."

"Christopher."

"Don't bother," Chris muttered as he stood and began for the door.

"Oh dear," the waitress muttered, stepping back as Albert stood as well.

"You cannot possibly be upset because you didn't know what school I went to or what languages I know," the blond stated causing Chris to stop in the middle of two full tables.

Both tables had couples at them; one couple was halfway through their meal while the other had barely begun. Even the waitresses and waiters around them stopped to stare but after a quick look to their owner who signaled for them to not stop the heated discussion, they simple watched.

"I'm not just upset about that. You haven't told me anything about your past since we've been together. We live together, work together, fuck each other—I think I deserve to know. Hell, you know everything about me."

"I never asked for that."

"Ooh," a nearby voice stated telling both men they were being listened to and watched closely by the other guests.

Chris, at the moment, could not possibly give a damn. Instead, he stepped a single step closer to his significant other and whispered harshly, "Don't bother coming home. If you didn't care, you should have told me so I would have stopped myself from making the big mistake of trusting you."

"Perhaps you are right."

Chris smirked rigidly and he was physically shaking in anger. Instead of speaking, afraid it may come out in a horrible mess of words if he tried, he turned on his heel, grabbed the nearest wine glass (which was literally handed to him by a young red headed woman), and splashed the liquid across the blonde's face. It was red wine and Albert made no move to stop him or shield himself.

"Fuck off," Chris muttered, slamming the wine glass to the floor. He took a moment to appreciate the shattering of the glass, practically feeling the shatter through his anger. Shards scattered the floor and, without caring, Chris began walking away. He didn't bother stepping around or over the pieces and barely flinched when a piece cut through the bottom of his shoe.

But the moment he left the restaurant and cold night air blew at his face, tears stung his ears. He was never much of a crier. Hell, he had been shot, stabbed, threatened, fired from his dream job, and his parents died; never did he let a single tear leave his eyes.

A single tear slid from the corner of his right eye to the base of his cheek and he shuttered with a quiet sob.

* * *

Chris called a cab and was home within minutes. Within the cab, he had pried the small piece of glass from his foot and was happy to see the wound had already clotted. The moment he was home he walked through the front door once it was unlocked and was happy to see he was alone. Taking a step inside, he switched on a light and closed the door. He locked and used the chain lock to reassure Albert would not be able to get in. He shucked off the jacket and then the vest letting them fall somewhere near the couch.

He was pulling at the tie when his eyes fell on a picture of the two taken by Jill who just couldn't help taking the shot when she caught the two kissing. In the picture, Wesker has his arm around Chris's waist and both of them are looking at the camera; Chris is blushing but Albert is simply smiling. Jill, luckily, kept quiet about the incident but Chris always had the sneaking suspicion Jill had shared the picture with Brad before giving it to the two.

Chris sighed and pulled the picture frame forward so it fell onto the table, face down. He just could not bring himself to look at  _him_  right now.

Chris left the picture and his clothes to proceed into the bedroom. He wanted to sleep, that was his goal now. He walked, hunched over, towards his bedroom and was surprised, and angry, to see the bedroom light on and the door closed. Growling under his breath, Chris shoved his shoulder into the door while simultaneously twisting the doorknob.

The door swung and hit the opposite side of the wall with a bang, causing Albert to stop and turn from his standing position in front of the bed. The dried red wine was gone from his face but his tie was spotted and, Chris assumed, so was his jacket.

"I expect you to clean up your vest and jacket," he muttered before continuing to undress. He had his tie untied around his neck and his jacket was on a hanger lying on the bed. The blond was only wearing black undershirt with the sleeves folded up in comfortable display that, quite simply, pissed Chris off.

"You fucking jackass."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm done playing your games, Wesker."

"Let me explain, Christopher," Albert said with a sigh, turning on his heel to face the infuriated brunet.

"Why should I let you insult me again?" Chris asked, tearing off his tie to toss it aside in anger.

"Let me explain," Albert repeated, just as calmly as before.

"Fine," Chris sighed, unbuttoning the first few buttons of his jacket as he sat down on the computer chair beside the desk.

"You're angry because you don't know about my past, correct?" Albert asked, his hip leaning back against the bed.

"Yeah," Chris said indignantly.

"What would you like to know?"

Chris dropped his arms from his chest and blinked at the blond in minor surprise. What was he supposed to say to something like that?

"Wait… What?"

"What would you like to know?" Albert repeated, sitting on the edge of the bed, prepared for a bombardment of questions.

"You were never this open to telling me anything and suddenly I start a fight and you're willing to tell me anything?"

"You have never asked before, Christopher. Do you truly expect me to begin exposing parts of my past that I may or may not enjoy talking about without you simply asking? If you had bothered to ask—"

"I've asked!"

"You have not," Albert snapped carefully, eyeing Chris dangerously. He stood up straight and ran a hand over his slick hair adjusting it absentmindedly while he paced several times. "I don't enjoy talking about my past," he said quietly—calmer. "If I had known you cared, I would have said something but I didn't want to bother with something so… difficult."

Chris felt horrible as he slowly realized Albert had been right. Chris had never actually asked to hear about the blonde's past and it made him assume Chris simply did not care. The brunet stood and inched towards Albert. The blond turned on his heel when he heard Chris behind him. Without thinking, Chris leaned up to kiss him and leaned in once Albert kissed back. It was a small apology kiss but it was a start. Once the two pulled apart, Chris looked at Albert expectantly and the blond sighed.

"You're forgiven."

"Can you tell me, then? About your past, I mean… It would be nice."

"Perhaps after you make it up to me," Albert smirked and continued the kiss with the brunet who was, quite clearly, excited to make up for his mistake as well as hear about the blonde's past… After their bed activities, of course.


End file.
